


Blind

by Cardinal_Daughter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 05:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12102111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardinal_Daughter/pseuds/Cardinal_Daughter
Summary: The events in Neverland leave Gold magicless and blind. When he arrives back in Storybrooke he embarks on his greatest journey yet: adjusting to a life of darkness. Thankfully he won’t have to do it alone.





	1. Blind

Most of the group that returned from Neverland arrived unscathed.

Except Rumplestiltksin.

For all his magic and power, he was not immune to the creature that was Peter Pan and in order to save his grandson he’d made a great sacrifice.

Peter Pan took his magic, his strength, and – just because he could – his sight.

When the group returned home, Belle had rushed to greet them. She brushed past the royal family, grateful they were safe but more concerned for her love. She was stopped by Neal.

Bae. The boy who was supposed to be dead.

“He’s not the man you remember,” Bae said, his voice trembling like a small child’s. “We had a chance to talk on the ship, so I know who you are. I know you can handle this; but I thought I should warn you. He isn’t the man that left you six months ago.”

Belle’s face withered in dread as his words sank in. She didn’t know what exactly had happened and so far Neal was not explaining things further, but she requested that she be lead to Rumplestiltksin and Neal nodded and gestured for her to follow him.

They made their way to the lower levels of Hook’s ship, the pirate thankfully nowhere in sight. Neal opened the door to a small room and Belle stepped past him, only to freeze at the sight.

He lay on a cot, looking weary, sick, and pale. His eyes shifted at the sound of Belle’s heels on the wooden floor and he hesitantly reached his hand out. “Who’s there?” He asked, trying his best to sound threatening.

Belle’s voice quivered as she spoke. “It-It’s me, Rumple.”

His eyes widened and he struggled to sit up. Belle rushed to his side, helping him ease himself up and when he was settled she looked into his eyes. And gasped.

His eyes, which had always been human looking even in his darkest moments as the Dark One, now were a solid, dull, empty black. The darkness covered the entire expanse of his eyes, making them look more like small round shadows on his face than eyes. They were bottomless, expressionless, and  _ _void.__   

“What happened?” Belle asked in horror as she reached up and gently pressed her hand to his cheek. He flinched slightly, and it was enough to break Belle’s heart.

“He was tortured,” Neal said bitterly, coming further into the room and leaning against the wall. “Peter Pan decided that if he was going to have to give up Henry, he’d take the Dark One instead. Apparently he decided to have his own kind of sick fun with him.”

Belle looked back at Neal, tears brimming in her blue eyes. She turned back to Rumple, who looked haunted and defeated and she rose up to embrace him. “What did the others do?” She asked.

“They were grateful for my services, but have hardly spoken to me since we got on the ship,” Rumple spoke, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper.

“You save their son, their grandson, and they don’t even  _ _bother__  to check up on you?” Belle declared, offended and hurt by the Charming family’s actions.

“It’s all right, Belle,” he whispered. “I’ve done my fair share to make their lives miserable.”

“No,” Belle declared, standing suddenly and looking down at Rumplestiltskin angrily. “You saved that boy and they just leave you in this tiny room. How dare they? You’re a hero, Rumple! Look at what you’ve done. You sacrifice  _ _so much__ , first to reunite with your own son, and then to help him save  _ _his__  son, and they can’t even so much as help you off the boat?” Belle felt livid, something she was unused to feeling, and she imagined the rage she now felt inside was similar to that which Rumple had felt for so long. It was only when Neal laid his hands on her shoulders in an effort to calm her that she realized she was not helping matters.

She took a deep breath, counted to ten in her head, and knelt back down in front of Rumple. “Never mind them,” she said with a huff. “You’re back and you’re with me now. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

She looked back at Neal and asked, “Can you help me get him onto the docks? I can call Grumpy; he’ll drive us to the hospital.”

“No,” Gold groaned, shaking his head. “No hospital, Belle. I just want to go home.”

Her first instinct was to argue, but she shoved her thoughts aside and decided that she would do what Rumple wished.

__She__  would take care of him.

She nodded, though he couldn’t see it and stood to help the man stand. Neal joined her and they hoisted him gently onto his feet, Gold groaning in pain when they did so.

“I’m still calling Grumpy,” she said as they began to make their way out of the room. “He can at least give us a lift to your house.”

Rumple grunted gently, and Belle took it as a ‘yes’.

-000-

Rumple had always been a fast learner, but it seemed that the same could not be said for learning to live without sight. He’d been used to being without magic for a long time, and so the permanent loss of that hardly fazed him; but the sudden loss of the ability to see left him frustrated and bitter.

Still, he supposed things could have been worse.

Or at least that was what Belle kept saying, and if we were going to listen to anyone, it was her.

His temper varied from frustration to outright rage as he tried to relearn how to walk, his leg requiring him to walk with a cane but his loss of sight requiring him to need a blind cane. He could not use both – he had tried – and after numerous failed attempts at other methods he finally resigned himself to the fact that perhaps he would have to use a wheelchair. When he mentioned the idea to Belle – angry at himself for having to resort to such an option – she’d merely hummed in response, took his hand in hers and stood him up. She gave him his cane, the one he needed due to his limp, and linked her arm in his free hand.

She led them, slowly, around the parlor in his home and after they’d circled the room at least four times, Gold asked her what she was doing.

“You don’t need a wheelchair,” she said. “All you need is someone to guide you. A flicker of light amidst all the darkness.”

Gold stopped and stared at her, his eyes unseeing, but she could sense she’d said something that struck him.

“Belle,” he whispered, pulling her close to him, and wrapping his arms around her. “You are so much more than a flicker of light. You are a bright and burning flame.”

She smiled, though he would never know it, and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“Let me guide you, Rumplestiltskin,” she whispered, “I’ll be your eyes. I’ll be you crutch. I’ll never let you stumble and fall.”

He felt tears streaming down his cheeks, touched by her words and held her closely as well. “I wish I could see you again,” he whispered brokenly. “All I could think of on that ship was the hope that I would see you again. And now I can’t even do that.”

She stepped back from him and he seemed afraid that she would leave him. Instead she lifted his hands and encouraged him to run his fingers over her face, though her hair, and over her body. He did so, taking in her entire form, the solidity of her presence. She was there and though he couldn’t see her, he’d never noticed how beautiful she  _ _felt.__  Smooth skin, soft hair, plump lips. Her beauty was palpable, and he caressed her face and hair, rubbed her arms, and squeezed her waist, reveling in her realness. She was a column of support and a beacon of light that he could see even in his blindness. She surrounded him, her scent of lilac and old books filling his nose and overwhelming him.

He’d felt her skin before, he’d smelled her hair, but now all of it was more pronounced and he was almost glad he could experience her in this way.

“Belle,” he breathed, the sound so soft it was almost lost in the silence, but Belle hummed in response and ran her hands over his cheeks- sunken in from his weakened state- and through his hair, which had lost some of its shine. She touched him everywhere he’d touched her, and he sighed as he felt her fingers run over his form. He couldn’t see her, but he could imagine, and in his mind he pictured her, petite yet consuming, and he sighed happily for the first time.

“I’m going to take care of you,” she whispered, brushing a light kiss to his cheek. “We’ll take it one day at a time. We’ll figure things out. But what matters right now is that I’m here and Bae’s here. You have us both and you’re never going to be left alone ever again.”

He pulled her against him, holding her tightly and allowed her words to wash over him.

He had lost his sight and his strength, but he had Belle; and she was more than capable of being both.


	2. Senses

Gold was not prone to positivity, but he’d come to realize that being blind had its advantages.

He could no longer see his True Love; but he could sense her in other ways. She had taken to wearing a light, lovely perfume that he could follow with his nose throughout the house, navigating his way around the path they’d created for him. He could find her no matter where she went, so long as he followed his nose.

He could touch her - something he did often - and it was always a thrill to feel her. It was instinct to reach out for her whenever she was near and she never seemed to mind that she was his pillar of hope, his physical crutch that held him steadier than his cane ever could. He held onto her as they walked the streets of Storybrooke and she would always whisper things to him, letting him know if there was an obstacle in his way, or if they were about to go in a different direction. She never let himself be taken by surprise, and she always held on tightly to him, clinging to him as tightly as he clung to her.   
  
He could hear her. Even back at the Dark Castle, she’d been a hummer, always humming a merry tune while she worked. Now she hummed as she cooked. She hummed while she cleaned and while she moved from room to room, doing whatever it was she did. She hummed in the shower, sometimes even breaking out into song and belting out lyrics he could only assume she’d learned while he’d been away. He’d never been fond of this world’s music, but when it was Belle’s voice that brought the words to life, he didn’t mind.

Even without humming, he could always locate her by sound. She was a loud creature, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Beyond that, however, she was prone to drop things and Gold could often hear a sudden clash or clatter followed by a murmured curse and he could only chuckle. Even without sight, he could determine which room she was in and would often make his way to said room - slowly, mind - and inquire whether or not she was hurt. She would always laugh and ensure him she was fine, and he was always rewarded with a kiss for his efforts. He couldn’t see her coming, but he could hear her, and the anticipation of when her lips would touch his was almost too much to bear.

But far his favorite way to experience Belle by far was to taste her. He could kiss and nibble, and lick his way up and down her body - and he need not have his sight to know every inch of her. He could taste her in the most intimate of ways while he listened to her hum with pleasure, and it was an overload to his senses to be with her. She was delicious, and he made a point to taste her as often as he could. She would giggle and then sigh as he sucked on the sensitive place between her should and neck, and there was nothing sweeter than to have her in his arms.    
  
No longer could he see her in the throes of pleasure, but he could hear her. He could hear her moans and sighs.

He could smell her. He could smell her arousal and her perfume and the combination of the scents drove him wild.

  
He could feel her. He could feel her as she squirmed below him and moved with him.   
  
He could taste her. He could taste her pleasure and know that he’d brought her to that place of satisfaction.

Being blind had its advantages, he decided. He couldn’t see the world, but that hardly mattered when his world was lying contentedly beside him, and with all the other pleasant ways he could experience her, he decided that sight was overrated.


	3. Okay

He tripped on the way up the stairs, and it only got worse from that point on.  
  
He fumbled for the silver wear, spilt his glass of tea, and dropped some of his food. By the end of the meal he was angry, bitter, and snappish. Belle paid for the meal - yet another blow to his pride - and helped him limp back to his home.  
  
He thanked her for the outing, pressed his hand to the wall, and guided himself slowly up the stairs to their bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. Belle stood at the foot of the stairs, tears brimming in her eyes. Her poor Rumple couldn’t seem to catch a break.  
  
She gave him his space, knowing he would be unwilling to talk for some time. She stayed away, killing time by tidying the house and reading. Finally, around seven o'clock she made some tea and carried it up on a tray to their bedroom. She knocked gently on the door but heard no response and so, summoning her courage she turned the handle and slipped inside.  
  
The room was dark, though Rumple would hardly know that and she squinted as she tried to locate him. She found the lamp on her nightstand and flipped it on, blinking as she saw her True Love lying under the covers, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I made tea.” She placed the tray on the stand and sat down on the edge of the bed. When he did not respond, she reached out to touch his hand. He withdrew his hand the moment they made contact, turning on his side to face away from her.  
  
She sighed. “Rumple…”  
  
"Don’t, Belle,” he murmured. “I’ve no interest in hearing your motivational speeches today.”  
  
She glared at the back of his head, but bit her tongue. It would not help at all to snap at him; to fuss and challenge him until he turned to her out of spite and anger. He’d lost so much in his life: his wife, his son, his magic, his sight.  
  
But he had her. And if he wanted to mope in silence, he could. But he wouldn’t do it alone.  
  
She stood from the bed, smirking to herself when his head moved to listen for her. She changed out of her clothing into her nightgown, then slipped out of the room long enough to brush her teeth and wash her face.  
  
She returned, frowning to see that he hadn’t moved, but she steeled herself, knowing he might snap, but she vowed not to retaliate. He was hurt and was prone to lashing out when distressed.  
  
She moved to her side of the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in. Rumple blinked and Belle could sense his annoyance.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
Belle turned onto her side so that she could face him. “Getting in bed.”  
  
He sighed. “What are you  _ _really__  doing?”  
  
She didn’t offer to touch him. He would reach out when he was ready.  
  
“I’m lying in bed. That’s all. I’m not going to do anything except lie here. Quietly, if you want.”  
  
He stared through her, his gaze unseeing and hollow. “Why?”  
  
Her fingers twitched, longing to reach out and offer the affection she wanted to give. She knew how to comfort him. He thrived under her fingers, her touch, and she longed to comfort him. But she remained still.  
  
“Because that’s what I do,” she whispered. “I stay.”  
  
He whimpered then, broken and empty and he reached forward blindly for her. She moved closer, relieved to finally have him willing to take her in his arms.  
  
He held her close, clutching her tightly and weeping into the crook of her neck. She rubbed his back, cooing and telling him it was okay to cry and he did so for some time.  
  
Finally his tears dried up and he released a heavy sigh against her. “I was powerless for so long,” he whispered at length. “Lame, friendless, hated. Magic helped me overcome those things. Now I’m powerless again. I’m clumsy; useless. I can’t even work at the shop now. I’ve never felt so hopeless.”  
  
She continued to rub his back, holding him as tightly as she could. “It’s going to be hard,” she said gently. “This will be the hardest thing you’ll ever endure. And you’re going to mess up. You’re going to trip. You’re going to drop things. You’re going to run into things. It’s all going to happen.”  
  
He made a noise, as if he were going to speak but she shushed him. “But I drop fragile tea cups, fall off ladders, and trip over my shoes. We’re not perfect. But we’re going to be okay.”  
  
He pulled away, wishing he could look at her. He brushed his fingers over her face, feeling every inch in a hesitant caress. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be okay,” he admitted.  
  
“We’ll figure it all out,” she said. “I told you when we got you off that ship that we would figure it out. But we  _ _are__  going to be okay. Eating at Granny’s today was new. It took you a while to learn your way around here, but it’s been a few weeks and you’ve already mastered making your way around the house and we’re working on the library. We’ll take it one place at a time and soon you won’t need me to lead you anywhere.”

She giggled to indicate she was teasing but Rumple wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her closer. "I’ll  _ _always__ need you,” he said, his eyes somehow meeting hers. “I’ll always need you.”  
  
She brushed her nose against his, smiling softly. “Then I’ll stay forever.”

He let out a sigh of relief and moved until his lips found hers. “Okay.”


	4. Braille

They’d been practicing walking around the living room when someone knocked on the door. Belle glanced at Rumplestiltskin, who turned his head toward hers, eyebrow raised high.

“I didn’t think Bae was coming over today,” he murmured gently as Belle led him to sit on the sofa. She shrugged, frowning when she realized that he couldn’t see her do so.

“That’s what I thought as well,” she quickly answered as she made sure he was settled. “But I’ll go find out.”

She walked away, the sound of her heels on the hardwood floor telling Rumple where she was. He heard the sound of the front door creak open – something he normally would have disliked, but now the sound was a comfort.

“Henry!” Belle exclaimed in surprise. Rumplestiltskin stiffened. He hadn’t seen his grandson since they’d returned from Neverland and if he were honest with himself, he had no desire to be around the boy. He didn’t want Henry to see him this way: a weak man with no power and no sight. Helpless.

He could hear the distinct sound of two footsteps on the floor growing nearer and he sat up straighter, tension making him scowl with unease.

“Rumple,” Belle said gently as they reached the room. “You have a visitor.”

“Hey, Grandpa.”

All hardness melted at the name. He couldn’t get rid of the boy even if he’d wanted to. He’d always had a soft spot for Henry, even before discovering they were family. Now that soft spot was full of love. And despite everything, he was glad he’d gone after him, no matter the cost. He would do it all over again.

“Hello, Henry,” he said softly, wishing more than anything he could see him.

Henry moved around the table and Rumple’s head turned to follow the sound. His hearing had heightened in the short time since his return, for which he was grateful. He felt the cushion of the couch sink underneath the boy’s slight weight and waited patiently for Henry to speak.

“I got you something,” the boy said matter-of-factly. Rumple cocked his eyebrow again.

“Did you now?” He asked.

“Yeah,” the boy said as he began to fiddle with what he held in his hands. Rumple waited patiently and after a moment he felt the boy place something solid and hard in his lap.

“What’s this?” He asked as he lifted his hands to feel the object. His hands roamed and it only took a moment to realize it was a book. Rumple frowned.

“Henry…”

“Open it,” Henry prompted quickly, sensing his grandfather’s slight irritation.

Sighing, Rumple did as requested and touched his fingers against the page, pausing in confusion when he felt a strange yet distinct bump on the paper.

He began to feel more freely, realizing the page was covered in the same bumps, and that there was a certain pattern to it.

“What is this,” he asked, feeling something akin to hope rising up in him.

“It’s Braille,” Henry informed him. “It’s how blind people read.”

Rumple sat still, saying nothing as he heard Henry rummage around some more. “Here,” he said, handing something else to Rumplestiltskin.

“There’s a kit that teaches you how to do it,” he told him. “Dad and I went to Boston yesterday and I bought it for you. I figured Belle could help you learn. There’s a video that gives instructions. The book I got you is probably too hard to read right now but I thought maybe once you got really good you’d want to read something other than the stuff that comes in the kit.”

Rumplestiltskin said nothing, as he caressed the pages in his hand. He heard Belle sniff quietly and he realized then that tears had started to form in his eyes as well. He stretched his hand out, searching for Henry who touched his hand to let him know where he was. Rumple pulled the boy to him, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you, my boy,” he whispered brokenly as he clutched his grandson to him. Henry hugged back just as eagerly, pleased that he’d been able to help his grandfather.

“It was the least I could do since you saved me and everything,” he whispered.

Gold moved away but Henry remained close by his side, looking expectantly between his grandfather and Belle.

“What book did you get him?” Belle asked as she moved to kneel at Rumple’s side, caressing the open page as well.

“A book of fairy tales,” Henry stated plainly.

Gold threw his head back and laughed.


	5. Dance

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Nonsense,” Belle said as she guided him toward the center of the room. Music was playing softly from the speakers, filling the room with a slow, melodic tune.

Belle stopped and turned to face Rumplestilskin. His eyes were looking past her, unfocused and confused, and for a moment Belle wondered if this was in fact a bad idea.

She took a deep breath and gently pulled the cane from his grasp. He let go reluctantly, visibly stiffening when Belle let go of him completely. She walked loudly, making sure her heels clacked on the floor so he could tell where she was and leaned the cane against the wall. 

She hurried back to where he stood and wrapped his arms around her waist and rested her hands on his shoulders. She began to sway gently, barely moving them. Gold swallowed nervously and looked down at her, his eyes unseeing.

“This isn’t dancing,” he grumbled despairingly.

“Sure it is,” she said simply. “It may not be a traditional dance like we had back in the old world but it’s still dancing.”

He said nothing, merely gripped her tighter, clutching her to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But I can’t do this.”

He could not move away, though they both knew that if he could, he would. Belle took advantage of that fact and kissed him gently.

“You’re already doing it,” she said. She shifted slightly and they began to turn in a small circle as they swayed. Rumple held onto her, afraid he would fall if he loosened his hold at all. Belle stepped closer and pressed her cheek on his shoulder.

“I like dancing with you,” she whispered as they continued to slowly move. Rumplestiltskin’s hand trailed up her back to tangle in her hair. “It’s nice.”

“I like it too,” he admitted at last.

She hummed in delight and hugged him closer. The song ended at last and Belle loosened her grip on him, intending to fetch his cane and let him be on his way. She took a step back but was stopped by Gold pulling her back to stand before him. “How about one more song?” He asked, a shy smile creeping on his face.

She rested her hands on his shoulders as they began to gently sway again. “I’d love to.”


	6. Fall

He’s constantly reminded of his helplessness, but when he hears a shriek and a clash, he is reminded all too well of his failure. He limps into the kitchen, hand stretched out blindly in front of him, feeling for Belle. She calls out to him and he realizes the sound is coming from the floor. She’s sniffling, and fear overtakes him. She’s hurt.

He stands still and stretches his cane out to feel for her and when the end manages to touch her leg, he takes an unstable step forward and sits on the ground. He shudders in surprise, the floor wet and now soaking into his pants. It’s everywhere, and he stretches his hand out to feel Belle, who is wet too.

“What happened?”

She sniffs again, and he frowns deeply.  “I was making tea,” she began, “And I slipped.”

He can smell it now that she’s mentioned it. They’re sitting in a puddle of tea. He searches for her hand but she jerks it away the instant he touches it. She hisses in pain and offers him an apologetic look, out of habit. “It hurts,” she admits at last and Rumple understands. She’s burned herself.

“Give me your hand,” he requests softly and she lays her hand in his. He can’t see it, but her hand is hot, and feels slightly swollen and blistered. She hisses in pain again and he bends down to let his lips brush against her. It’s not True Love’s Kiss in the sense that it will make the pain end, but she tightens her hand in his in a silent thanks.

She stands slowly for she’d landed on her rear and it’s a bit sore as well. When she is stable she helps Rumple to stand. He ignores the unpleasantness of his soggy pants as he makes his way to the sink, hand sliding along the counter top as he goes, and he grabs a rag and runs it under some cold water. He turns and motions for her to come to him, which she does with hesitant steps. He hears the clink of cup and spoon as she sets it in the sink and he reaches down to take her hand. He gently presses the rag to it and he hears her bite back a whimper but he keeps the rag over the spot and uses his other hand to draw her close to him. She goes willingly and rests against his frame.

He can’t heal her; he can’t make her pain go away, but he can hold her to him and love her and ease the ache as much as he can. Just like she does for him every day.


	7. Meltdown

It’s been a bad day, and Belle is at the end of her rope. Rumple has been exceptionally self-loathing today, telling her he’d rather sit alone in his room than attempt their daily practice of doing mundane tasks, and when he’d snapped at her, telling her he can manage well enough alone, she decides she has had enough and leaves.   
  
Of course, she’d ensured the phone was in his lap so he could call if he needed, and his cane was propped up on the nightstand so he could reach it easily, but after that, she’d stormed out of the room and was now making her way to Granny’s, needing an iced tea and some fries to calm her anger.   
  
She’s thinking about the injustice of it all, how Rumple was stripped of his powers and his sight and left to struggle through life while the rest of the Neverland group had come back unharmed. There had been nicks and scrapes and wounded egos and aching hearts, but none of them had any lasting effects from their trip. Only Rumple. Always Rumple. Hadn’t he endured enough?   
  
It with those thoughts in her head that she bumps into Snow White and Charming, walking happily down the street with fingers entwined and not a care in the world (for now.) And seeing them, strolling along with perfect limbs and bright, shining eyes, and not a hint of struggle or defeat about them. Snow White smiles primly and asks Belle how she is.   
  
And Belle tells her the truth.   
  
“Oh,  _I’m_  fine,” she says, wincing as the hateful tone escapes her before she can control herself. “However, it’s not me you should be asking about.”   
  
Charming seems to understand immediately where this is going and, peacemaker that he is, tries to calm her. She has none of it. “Why is it that the one man who is responsible for saving your grandson - who just so happens to be  _his_ grandson as well - is the one that has to bear the brunt of Pan’s attack? Why is it that when I got to him, he was lying in the bottom deck of a ship, cold and lonely save for Bae, and totally uncared for? How come Henry is the only one who ever comes to visit him; to acknowledge what he did for him? You two can walk down the street and be happy that you have your lives and family back, but Rumple  _can’t._ We can’t walk down the street together or go on a normal date anymore or do  _anything_ and if that weren’t bad enough, he’s treated like an outcast for being the only one who could do what was necessary to save your family!”   
  
She’s breathless at this point, her anger reaching a boiling point and she feels tears stinging her eyes and she knows she’s causing a scene but Rumple has taken his bad mood out on her and even though Belle is strong, she has a breaking point too. But this is not who she is and she knows it and she is half a second away from apologizing for taking out her frustrations - no matter how justified they may be - on them.   
  
But then Snow surprises her by pulling her into a tight hug and whispers, “I’m sorry.”   
  
Belle doesn’t move or speak, merely blinks in confusion and a few tears slide down her face. Snow backs away and takes Belle’s hands in hers. “You’re right,” she says after a moment, causing Charming to cast her a cautious glance. “It’s not fair. Not for Gold or for you. And I have no excuse for not coming to see him or asking after him. We were wrong to just leave him on the ship. No matter what’s been between us, he didn’t deserve that.”   
  
Belle shakes her head, dizzy and lightheaded and confused but willing to agree to almost anything that comes from that sweet, gentle voice that is entirely Mary Margaret and not at all Snow.   
  
“It’s been hard,” Belle admits at length. “He doesn’t want to accept my help.”   
  
“Gold’s always been a difficult man to love,” Charming says gently, coming to stand beside his wife. “But you’ve always been the best qualified for the job. I guess we just assumed you could handle it.”   
  
Belle wipes at her eyes and sighs. “I don’t think I can.”   
  
Snow smiles and pulls Belle to her again, her embrace a motherly one. Belle revels in it. “I know Gold won’t want us to help,” she begins, “But maybe we can do some things on the side, out of the way but still helpful.”   
  
Belle asks what she means and Snow goes on. “Run errands for you so you can help him. Small things that we wouldn’t otherwise think about. I know Emma would probably be willing to help too. So would Henry.”   
  
“Henry and Neal have visited several times. Sometimes Rumple will visit with them. Sometimes he won’t.”   
  
“It’s hard,” Charming says softly, “I’ve never lost my sight, but I can imagine just how difficult it is, especially for someone who used to be so powerful.”  
  
Belle nods, still leaning heavily against Snow. “I don’t know what else to do.”   
  
“Just love him,” Snow says. “It won’t cure him, but it’ll make his life better. It’ll make your life better. And if you ever need to vent and yell and scream about how much of a stubborn jerk he is, just call me. I know a good space in the woods where I can teach you the joys of taking out frustrations with archery.”   
  
Belle laughs, a genuine bubbly laugh, and agrees. “That would be wonderful.”   
  
“What were you doing when we ran into you?” She asks, changing the subject. Belle nodded toward Granny’s, just a few hundred feet away.   
  
“Planning to eat my problems away.”   
  
Snow chuckles. “Why don’t you go back to Gold? We’ll bring you some take out. Maybe visit for a bit, if he’s willing.”   
  
“He won’t be,” she sighs, “But the gesture would be welcome.”   
  
\- - -   
  
Belle opens the door slowly to see Rumple has not moved from his spot on the bed. He raises his head toward the door and Belle moves  to the bed, crawling on top of it to sit facing him.   
  
“I thought you were tired of me?”   
  
She reaches out to take his hand and she smiles when he brushes his fingers over her knuckles.   
  
“I’m tired of your attitude,” she says softly. “But I was also tired of mine. So now I’m okay. This is hard for you and I should be more understanding of that. I shouldn’t have lost my patience with you.”   
  
He laughs bitterly. “You are the most understanding person I know, Belle,” he whispers, “I don’t know how you’ve put up with me this long.”   
  
She leans forward and presses her lips to his, loving how quickly he responds to her despite his mood. “It’s because I love you,” she whispers against his skin and somehow that seems to be enough. He kisses her again, gently and lovingly, and it’s several minutes before they speak again.   
  
“We’re having dinner delivered, if you’d like to eat.”   
  
His stomach grumbling is answer enough and he reaches for his cane. “What is being delivered?”   
  
“Granny’s.”   
  
“Granny’s doesn’t deliver.”   
  
Belle smiles as she moves to stand next to Rumple to guide him as he uses his cane for support. He smiles softly at her touch and it warms her to know he is going to accept her help. “They do curtsey of the Charming Delivery Service.”   
  
Rumple groans. “You can’t be serious.”   
  
“I am serious. I had a bit of a meltdown in front of them and they offered to bring us dinner.”   
  
Rumple pauses and grabs Belle, pulling her to him awkwardly. “Meltdown?”  
  
“I may have yelled at them for not taking better care of you on the ship or showing any appreciation for what you did for Henry. They agreed they were wrong and offered to try to make things right.”   
  
“Getting the king and queen of the Enchanted Forest to bring us food; Belle, you are a wonder.”   
  
She giggles and moves to help guide him down the stairs. “I’ll remind you of that the next time you get grumpy.”   
  
He laughs, and later on they end up having a pleasant visit with the Charming’s.


	8. Beautiful

 

He’s trembling. He feels ready to vomit or pass out, or both, and he can’t breathe and his son tugging at the bow tie around his neck. It’s tightened to the point of pain. He’s convinced he’s going to collapse.

He should be happy; overjoyed. It’s his wedding day. But instead of the nervous jitters he’d experienced with his first wedding a world and a lifetime ago, all he can feel now is dread. He’s dealt with his unworthiness for so long that he can’t even allow himself one day to believe he deserves anything other than pain, misery, and loneliness.

Neal senses his father’s mood and tells him to wait there; he has something for him. Rumple remains where he is, waiting with impatience. A moment later his acute hearing picks up a rustling of fabric that is definitely not Neal entering the room. He hears the click of the door shutting - locking - and then, “Hey, handsome.”

He swallows nervously, immediately shutting his eyes though it offers no change. “I’m not supposed to see you before the wedding,” he says instantly.

“Well, then I suppose for once it’s a good thing you can’t see,” she teases - and she’s the only one who can get away with it - before coming up and taking his hands in hers. He loves the sound of her dress shuffling against the floor; the sound of her small heels clicking on the wood. “Neal said you were upset. What’s wrong, Rumple?” 

He sighs and lowers his head. “Belle,” he whispers despairingly, but her finger presses to his lips to keep him from elaborating. 

“This is as much your day as it is mine, Rumple,” she chides softly. “It is as much me marrying you as you marrying me. I was very willing when you asked and I’m just as willing now. I’m going to be your wife and I’m going to take care of you and love you and put up with your bad moods and you’re going to hold me and love me and put up with my obsession with reading. We’re going to make this work; we’ve always managed to make it work and I’m determined to go with you forever, just like I promised.”

It’s a beautiful sentiment and he appreciates it, but that isn’t the problem that has him so upset. He tells her as much and she frowns. “Then what’s wrong, love?” 

He sighs and squeezes her hands. “I can’t see you.”

“Rumple-” 

“No, listen,” he pleads. “I can’t see you. All I’ve dreamed of since our very first kiss was the sight of you in white. And now that day is here and I can’t even tell my bride that her dress looks stunning and that she is the most beautiful vision I’ve ever beheld.” He sniffs, and tilts his head upward. “All those people out there will see how absolutely perfect you are and I never will.”

“Yes you will,” she whispers in a small voice and he frowns. 

“How?” 

She lets go of his hands, moving to take his wrists instead. She moves his hands up to her hair and lets them gently land at her temples. “Feel me,” she says. “Feel your way down.”

Slowly, he does, starting at the tulle veil, pinned to her hair by a small row of rose clips. He moves one hand to the back of her head and barely traces her hair, causing Belle to shudder. “My hair is half up,” she explains, “Half of it is pulled back, resting at the base of my neck…yes, there,” she says as he touches the spot where the band is wrapped around her hair.

  
His hand continues and so does Belle. “My veil stops at my shoulders,” she informs him and he plays with the end of the fabric, catching a few of her loose curls as he does. “I’m not going to have it over my face. I’ll be open and waiting for you to kiss me.”

He leans down and kisses her then, lips pressing lightly over hers as he lifts his hands to caress her cheeks, her nose, her chin. He moves one hand to her left ear, gently playing with the little pearl earring.

“The pearls you bought me last Christmas,” she whispers, the feeling of his fingertips delightful. 

His hands wander to her neck and he feels the pearl choker at the base of her neck. His hands slide lower, feeling the lace that covers her upper chest and shoulders. Belle shivers in delight and Rumple runs his hands down her arms, feeling the lace stop at her elbows to make way for creamy, smooth skin. “The dress is lace and satin,” she whispers as his hands move lower, one to play with her fingers - where he can feel the slight hardness of her nail polish - while his other hand turns her engagement ring around her finger.

“It has a sweetheart neckline,” she informs him, and he immediately moves his hands up to feel for where the lace stops and the satin begins. He traces the curve of satin, forming the top of a heart shape that rests along the top of her breasts and she sighs as he traces the line of fabric over and over, the rough lace and smooth satin a thrill to his oversensitive hands.

 

He moves his hands at length, one coming to rest at her back, the other trailing down her front and over her chest, where he lingers for a moment, caressing and squeezing softly as his hand travels. His right hand trails over her stomach, the satin tight against her frame. His hands move to clasp her waist, where the tight bodice of the dress holds her firm and upright, making her waist have more of an inward curve than she normally has. His hands follow the billowing out of the skirt, brushing her hips, then move around to cup her cheeks, making her sigh.

She moves and pushes him back a step so that he falls none too gently into a chair and his hands instantly begin running down the skirt of the dress, the smooth satin flowing under his hands. He reaches the hem of the dress and leans forward further to run his hands over the top of her shoe. She lifts her foot, balancing precariously on one leg and rests her foot on the seat in the space between his legs. He feels the smooth material of her shoe, his fingers catching on the small pearl detailing at the top, then moves on to feel the nylon hosiery. His hands slide up her leg, the material rough but then he reaches her thigh and he groans at the feeling of nylon making way for the soft flesh of her thigh. He can feel the garter belt, frilly and lacy and his hand moves again, higher until he feels the silk of her underwear, and the silkier flesh underneath.

They both gasp and Belle’s knees shake at the touch. He wants to stay there, he wants to remain there always, but there will be time for that later and so he lowers his hands, trailing back down her leg and to her foot. He moves her foot carefully back to the ground and stands, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms tightly around her. He kisses her, as soft as the satin that covers the rest of her and with tears in his eyes, he smiles, “You’re beautiful.”   
  
And later, when the music is playing and Neal whispers that she’s making her way down the aisle, he is easily able to imagine the sight of her, all smiles and lace and satin, walking toward him.


	9. Darkness

He wakes up with a shout. The darkness that surrounds him in his dream remains. He can tell when Belle flips on the lamp and she reaches out to take his hand. “You okay?” She asks sleepily and he feels guilty for waking her.

“Just a bad dream, dearest,” he says weakly, “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

He waits for the rustling of sheets and the darkness to creep back into the room but neither come. Instead he feels Belle pull him so that his head in cradled between her breasts and she runs her fingers through his hair.

“When I was little sometimes I would have nightmares. My mother would come to my room and have me tell her everything that happened. If you bring the monsters into the light, they can’t hurt you.”

“But what if you’re always trapped in the darkness?”

He can feel her frown; he knows he’s upset her but it doesn’t make it less true. He’s always in the dark. He’s always lost in the shadow of nightmares. Wakefulness doesn’t send the monsters away in his world; not anymore. Here they linger still, just a breath away.

Belle continues to run her fingers down his cheeks and through his hair and the motion is incredibly soothing. “Then hold onto me,” she says softly, “I’ll stay in the light and make sure the monsters can’t touch you.”

“I should be protecting you,” he whispers and his shame is evident.

She bops him gently on the nose with her hand. “Let me take care of you,” she begs, “You’re not any weaker for it. Besides,” she says as she leans over to press a kiss to the spot she’d smacked, “I like taking care of you. So let me.”

He nods and shifts so he can wrap his arms around her torso. “I was always afraid of the dark as a boy,” he admits with a sob. “And now it’s always dark.”

Belle holds him tighter. “Hold onto me,” she tells him, “I won’t leave you alone. I can’t take the darkness away but I’ll stay in it with you. And I’ll bring as much light as I can.”

He weeps, grateful for this wonderful woman who tolerates him in his absolute weakness and he eventually falls asleep in her arms. When he wakes the next morning she is still there holding him tightly and he’s never felt safer.


	10. Happy Birthday

“I don’t want to go out tonight, Belle,” Rumple huffed as he felt around the table for his cane. 

Belle rolled her eyes and grabbed the cane, gently pressing it into Rumple’s hand. He grunted in annoyance and Belle sighed. “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’,” she began, “And I just thought it might be nice to have dinner with Bae and Henry." 

"No,” Rumplestiltskin said, “I know what you’re doing, Belle. And I want no part in it." 

"Other than trying to feed you, Rumple, what am I doing?" 

He begins to walk away, leaning hard on his cane. He’s able to get around the house without the use of his white cane now. However, in his urgency to avoid this conversation, his shoulder bumps into the frame of the door. Annoyed, he growls and spins around to where he imagines Belle is. 

"You’re trying to celebrate my birthday, and I’m not interested." 

She swallows thickly, wondering how she’d been caught. Neither Bae nor Henry had visited Rumple in the past three days since she made the arrangement, so she was utterly clueless as to how he knew what she was doing. As if he could read her mind, Rumple spoke again, "Ever since I told you when my birthday was, you’ve been hinting about how you want to celebrate it. I’m blind but not stupid. I know you’ve got some sort of party set up at the diner and I don’t want to go." 

"I never said you were stupid, Rumple,” Belle snaps, stepping forward to grab his hand, “And I don’t have a party planned because I knew you would be a complete ass about it. It's  _just_ dinner with me, your son, and your grandson. That’s it. There isn’t going to be a cake, and no one is going to sing happy birthday or anything. It’s dinner." 

She dropped his hand and stepped around him, "And I’m going with or without you, so unless you want to fend for yourself tonight, you’ll just have to come with me." 

It was harsh and she knew it, but Rumple scowled in her direction and turned to make his way upstairs, grumbling about how he’d be ready in twenty minutes. She hated being so stern with him, but dammit if the man wasn’t the most stubborn person she’d ever met. Sometimes it took a good lecture from her to get him to agree to something. 

And most of the time he ended up agreeing that she’d been right all along. Eventually he’d learn not to question her. She hoped. 

~000~

They arrived at the diner at six o'clock. Belle lightly held onto Rumple’s arm, discretely guiding him toward the booth where the rest of his family sat waiting for him. Henry spoke up immediately, greeting his grandfather with a cheerful 'hello’. Rumple made no effort to reply and Belle took the advantage of having his arm to nudge him sharply. He got the message and offered a quick, "Hello, Henry,” back. 

They ordered dinner and Belle did her best to keep the conversation lively and pleasant. Rumple remained silent throughout the majority of the evening, content to twirl his cane in between his hands and patently wait for the evening to end. After dinner, Henry asked his dad if he could get a desert, and Bae, push over that he was when it came to his son, couldn’t say no. Belle offered to go with him, deciding she wanted cake as well, and as they shifted so Henry could crawl out of the booth, Belle gave Bae a fixed look, then nodded to Rumple. Her eyes were pleading, begging Bae to reach Rumple in a way she had been unable to today, and Bae nodded in assurance.

Once Belle and Henry were gone, Bae cleared his throat and focused on his father. 

“So what’s with the mime act?" 

Rumple’s eyebrow lifted, clearly not understanding what his son meant. Bae continued, "You’ve been silent the whole night, and I know for a fact that Belle has been super excited about celebrating your birthday. So, what? Did she not give you a good enough present?" 

Rumple’s head shot up and Bae chuckled. Rumple’s cheeks burned, but he said nothing, choosing instead to lower his head back down. "I don’t like to celebrate my birthday,” he admitted at last. 

“Too much partying over the centuries finally wearing you down?" 

Rumple’s frown deepened and Bae realized he was hitting a sensitive spot for his father. Changing his tone, he leaned in closer and asked, "What happened?" 

Rumple was silent for a long time, then finally whispered, "My father abandoned me on my birthday." 

Bae’s eyes widened. He knew Pan was his grandfather, but he didn’t know much else about his father and grandfather’s history. "And it’s a painful reminder,” he finished. 

Rumple nodded, “Indeed. I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I was ten." 

"Dad, why didn’t you say anything about it to Belle? She would have understood." 

Rumple sighed. "I…don’t know. Part of me wants to celebrate with her. I have you, her, and now Henry in my life and I know I should be happy but,” His hand lifted and ghosted over his eyes, “But I can’t find the strength to celebrate. I have my family, but I’m completely useless." 

"You’re not useless,” Bae argued instantly. 

“No, I’m just blind. And crippled." 

"And if you think, after everything we’ve all been through, that those two things are going to change how we feel about you, then you’re also an idiot."

Rumple blinked, surprise written on his face. Bae sighed, "Look,” he said, “Screw your dad. He was a jerk. I knew him before I even knew he was my granddad, and he was still a complete asshole. He didn’t care about you, or me, or anyone but himself and if you’re going to spend your birthday moping because some selfish bastard didn’t have the balls to be a dad, then you’re going to have to do it alone. Because you’ve had three people sitting right here all evening wanting to celebrate  _you_. You, Papa." 

Belle and Henry returned at that moment, each holding a plate in their hands. Henry moved in beside Neal and Belle sat down gracefully next to Rumple. Belle opened her mouth to speak, but before she could Rumple raised his hand and called out to Ruby, "Miss Lucas?" 

Ruby approached, "Yes, Gold?”

“Do you happen to have a slice of your German Chocolate cake?" 

Ruby smiled, "Made one just for you this morning." 

Belle glanced up at Ruby with surprise and the wolf-girl shrugged, "I have good hearing,” she reminded her, “I knew you guys were coming and I thought I’d be prepared." 

Rumple smiled. "I’d like a piece, then,” he said as he carefully wound his arm around Belle’s shoulders, “And if there’s enough, give a piece to everyone here. It’s my birthday, and I feel like celebrating.” He paused then and squeezed Belle’s shoulder, “But you still can’t sing 'Happy Birthday’.”

Belle laughed and turned to press her lips hard against Rumple’s. Both Bae and Henry made gagging noises at the display, and Rumple couldn’t help but laugh. His son was right.  _These_ were the people he cared about, and even if there was a bitterness to his birthday, that was in the past. His future was with those sitting with him, and though he could not see, he thought his future looked pleasantly bright. 


	11. Fall

He takes it one step at a time, literally. He’s managed to walk through the dining room and living room; now all he needs to do is get up the stairs. He has left his cane behind in favor of his white stick. It’s not easy juggling both at once, and so he leans against the wall, hoping that will support him enough to get him up the sixteen steps to their bedroom on the second floor. 

The stick hits the edge of the steps and he slowly lifts his foot, and lets it settle on the first step. 

“One,” he whispers to himself. Belle had been the one to suggest counting steps, and so far it’s proven a fruitful endeavor. There are twenty-three steps from his favorite armchair to the refrigerator. From the refrigerator to the table is nine steps. He only has fifteen more to go, then another thirteen from the top of the stairs to the bed. He’s almost there. 

He manages to get up four more steps before he misjudges and slips. He can feel himself about to fall, but suddenly there are arms wrapped around him, holding him steady and safe from certain injury. 

“I got you,” Belle whispers as she helps Rumple readjust himself on the steps. He nods in thanks and knows from the heat on his face that his cheeks are burning red in embarrassment. Belle moves and wraps the arm he isn’t using to hold the white stick around her shoulders. They move up the steps together, one at a time, and Rumple sighs in relief when they make it to the top. 

Belle slips out from underneath him and turns to face him directly. She takes his face in her hands- gently so as not to startle him - and presses a kiss to his lips. “Remember when I fell, back at the Dark Castle?” 

He nods and smiles at the distant memory. “Aye,” he whispers, “I do.” 

He can’t see her smile. But he can feel it in her words, “I’ll always catch you, if you fall.” 

He presses his forehead against her and wraps her in his arms. “I know you will.”   


	12. Seeing Eye Dog

“I’m coming!” Rumple called out grumpily as he made his way to the front door. The incessant knocking was driving him mad, and he had half a mind to inform his unwelcome visitor just how much he didn’t appreciate being disturbed. 

He touched the door, then slid his hand down the frame until he felt the knob. He pulled the door open, blinking in surprise when he heard a cheerful  _bark!_

_“_ Hi, Grandpa,” Henry’s voice came from a few feet away. The anger he’d previously felt melting, Rumple smiled. 

“Hello, Henry.” 

“Can we come in?” 

Rumple raised a brow. “We?” 

“Yeah,” the voice of David came from behind Henry. “We have something for you.” 

He heard the bark again and sighed, “Let me guess…” 

He felt the breeze of his family entering, followed by the feeling of a tail brushing against his pants leg. Shutting the door, Rumple slowly followed the sounds until he was in the sitting room, lap suddenly full of dog. 

His instinct was to demand Henry explain himself, but the dog was nuzzling him, and licking at him, and Rumple had always had a soft spot for animals. He rubbed the dogs head, smiling as he heard the distinct thump of the dogs tail whacking against the floor. 

“I got you a dog,” Henry admitted, answering Rumple’s earlier question. Rumple paused and turned his head toward his grandson’s voice. 

“That’s very kind of you, Henry,” Rumple began, “But I don’t think I can properly care of a dog.” 

“Well, it’s not  _just_ a dog,” David chipped in, and Rumple turned his head to acknowledge the other man. “He came into the shelter a couple days ago. He’s trained as a seeing eye dog.” 

Rumple stared ahead, the realization of what that meant sinking in. The dog stood on its hind legs and gave him a lick, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Really?” He said, dazed. 

“Yeah!” Henry explained, “I thought he could help you, that way you can use your other cane and it won’t be so awkward all the time. Plus Dug is really friendly and-” 

“Dug?” 

“That’s his name,” Henry informed him, “Apparently the person who had him before decided he was too much trouble. But he’s really nice and I think you’ll like him.” 

The dog barked happily and practically crawled onto Rumple’s lap. “I think he already likes me,” Rumple laughed. 

He gently moved the dog back to the ground, and scratched him behind the ears. “Thank you, Henry,” Rumple said softly, “I think Dug and I will get along quite nicely." 


	13. Wedding Jitters (Future!Gold)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the future. Henry is getting married.

_Henry refers to Regina as “Mother” and Emma as “Mom” in this fic._

_\---_

Henry stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his bow tie for the tenth time in a half hour. He sighed, examining himself, then turned.

"Are you sure-" 

"Yes,” the other two men answered in unison. Neal stood, patting his father on the shoulder, and approached his son. 

“You’re going to be fine, Henry,” Neal said encouragingly. “It’s really not that bad. You just repeat the vows, put the ring on her finger, then you get to eat!" 

"But what if I mess up? Or drop the ring!" 

The tapping of Rumple’s canes caused both Neal and Henry to glance behind them. Rumple shifted the canes in his grasp, then reached out a free hand toward Henry. Henry took his grandfather’s hand and Rumple smiled. "You’re not going to drop the ring,” he said softly, “I managed to get Belle’s ring on with no issues at all. And I can’t see." 

Henry sighed, "Yeah, but you’re….you. You knew Grandma and you have True Love. You had nothing to be nervous over." 

Neal laughed loudly at that, causing Henry to look at him curiously and Rumple to glare in his direction. "Papa was a nervous wreck!” Neal exclaimed, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so worked up as him. You’re the picture of calm compared to Dad on his wedding day!" 

"And what about you, son?” Rumplestiltskin grumbled, “You were nearly in tears, thinking Miss Swan would change her mind at the last minute." 

Henry smiled, "Mom was afraid you would change  _your_ mind." 

Neal blinked in surprise. He and Emma had made a pact not to speak of what happened before; they’d had one long and in depth discussion about everything, expressed how they felt, then moved on, agreeing to leave the past behind. Neither were sentimental types, and both guarded their hearts carefully, and it had been with trepidation that they’d agreed to try again. Neal had always feared, much like his father, that his love would leave him, but it had never occurred to him that she might fear the same. 

Rumple sensed a change in the atmosphere around them and once again reached out cautiously to pat Henry’s shoulder, "Grace loves you, Henry,” he said softly. “And no matter what happens today, if you mess up the words or drop the ring, the only thing that will happen is she will tease you about it mercilessly for the rest of your life. She won’t think any less of you. In fact,” Rumple said, unable to stop a grin from spreading, “I’ve found it’s my imperfections that makes Belle love me more. So don’t worry." 

There was a moment of silence, then Rumple stumbled as Henry abruptly grabbed him, hugging him closely. Rumple wrapped his arms around his grandson, holding both canes in one hand while his other reached up to stroke the boy’s messy hair. 

"Thank you, Grandpa,” Henry murmured against Rumple’s shoulder. 

“It’s nothing,” he replied. Henry pulled back and shook his head. 

“No,” he said firmly, “Not just for this. But for everything. You got me to Storybrooke. You gave me a good home with Mother. You helped Mom break the Curse. You saved me in Neverland. You accepted me as family, even before you knew we  _were_ family. You’ve always been there, in the background, looking out for me.”

Rumple felt teary-eyed, but he pushed the emotion aside as he heard the sound of heels clacking on the hardwoods floors outside their room. A knock sounded, followed by Belle’s voice calling out, “Henry? It’s time." 

Rumple took Henry’s arm and began leading him toward the door. "Here we go." 

~000~

"Well that went better than I could have ever hoped." 

Henry handed his grandfather a plate of food and took a seat beside him in the empty lawn chair. Grace loved the outdoors and had wanted a picnic reception. Food was lined up on elegantly decorated folding tables, picnic tables were covered with silver and purple table cloths, and blankets were spread out for those who wanted to lounge on the ground while they ate and enjoyed the afternoon. 

"It sounded like it went wonderful,” Rumple replied as he took the plate with a grateful nod. “Shouldn’t you be with your wife, though?" 

Henry laughed. "Yes. And I’ll go in a minute. I just wanted to bring you some food and say thanks for earlier." 

"It was no trouble, Henry." 

Henry smiled, then looked up and waved as Belle and Grace approached. "Hi, Grandma!” He chirped happily before smiling almost shyly at his new wife. Grace returned the look and Belle smiled affectionately. 

“I still think you could find something to call me that doesn’t make me sound so old.” She moved to stand behind Rumple’s chair, squeezing his shoulders gently. Grace eased herself onto Henry’s lap and he instinctively wound his arms around her, idly playing with the lace of her tea length white dress. 

“Hello, Mr. Gold,” she said politely, “Are you enjoying yourself?" 

Rumple nodded. "I am,” he said pleasantly before stretching out a free hand toward her. Grace took his hand in hers, smiling when he squeezed it gently. “Welcome to the family, dearie. And if that grandson of mine gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll set him straight." 

Grace laughed and patted Rumple’s hand. "You’ll be next in line after myself, Papa, Mr. and Mrs. Nolan, Emma, Regina, and Belle." 

Henry blanched. "My own family is turning on me! I would never hurt you, Grace!" 

She giggled and bent down to touch his nose with hers. "I know. But it’s just so much fun to tease." 

He wrinkled his nose, then stood, scooping his bride up in his arms. "I think it’s time for cake!” He declared, “And I’m inclined to be as messy as possible!”

He walked off, Grace’s cry of, “Henry Mills, don’t you dare!” echoing behind them. Rumple shook his head, remembering when Henry was just a boy of thirteen, claiming he would never marry because girls were ‘gross’. Now he was a married man, and though it made Rumple feel decidedly old, he was grateful that he was able to be present for such a happy occasion. Belle seemed to sense his brief nostalgia and bent down to press a kiss against his cheek. 

“You okay?" 

He nodded. "He’s much more at ease now,” Rumple said softly. “Poor boy was a nervous wreck, before." 

Belle hummed in agreement. "So was Grace. I thought the poor girl was going to have a breakdown." 

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why?" 

"Nerves, I suppose. She was afraid she’d get up there and do something wrong, or Henry would change his mind. Surprisingly enough, it was Regina who managed to calm her down." 

"She has her moments,” Rumple acknowledged. 

“Indeed she does.” Belle took a moment to look out over the crowd of people, all oblivious to them. “You know,” she said, moving around to sit on Rumple’s lap, “All this wedding activity makes me think about our wedding day." 

Her tone was low and husky, and it didn’t take Rumple long to realize where this conversation was going. Playing along, he responded with a mere, "Oh?" 

She replied with a soft 'mmhmm,” and leaned closer to him, “And more specifically, what came  _after_ the wedding." 

"I remember,” he said, his voice breathy. 

“What do you say to us-"  

"Yes. Say your goodbyes and let’s go." 

Belle laughed. "Eager?

He gave her a glare. "You’re a tease. No go make our excuses and let’s get out of here." 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then was gone. 


	14. Walkie Talkie (Future!Gold)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry's child is about to be born.

 

“I can’t be having a grand kid. I’m too young!” 

Emma was pacing in the hallway of the hospital with the rest of her family, waiting for news of Grace and her not-yet-born child.

“How do you think I feel?” Mary Margaret said dryly, “This is my  _great-_ grand kid. I don’t even look old enough to be a grandmother, let alone  _your_ mother!” 

“I suppose that’s the price we all must pay for being stuck for twenty-eight years,” Rumple said as he sat patiently beside Belle who was absorbed in a book.

“I’m not even forty, though!” Emma cried. “I mean, yeah I had Henry young, but still! This is crazy!” 

Belle looked up from her book with a smirk. “It’s not so bad,” she offered softly. “I’m Neal’s step-mother and we’re practically the same age.”

“Minus the century I spent in Neverland,” Neal pointed out. “So, I’m technically older.” 

Belle giggled and Rumple huffed. “Not sure what all the fuss is over anyway,” he griped, “I can’t even remember how old I am. It’s not so bad.”

“ _Mom!”_

The room hushed as Emma glanced down at the walkie talkie in her hand. She pressed the button and lifted it to her lips, “What’s up, kiddo?” 

“ _Did you threaten to kill anyone while you were giving birth to me?”_

 

Emma blinked in surprise. “Um, not that I can recall, kid. Why?” 

“ _Grace said she was going to murder me.”_

Emma laughed and pressed the button again. “Well, just hold her hand and let her scream at you. She doesn’t mean it, I’m sure.”

“ _Oh yes I do! I’m never letting you touch me again Henry Mills!”_

Emma jerked the walkie talkie away from her at the sound of Grace shouting hatefully at Henry. The rest of the room chuckled at the display, while Regina sat in the corner, rolling her eyes and trying to hide her smile.After a moment, the walkie talkie buzzed back to life. “ _Can I talk to Grandpa?”_

_“_ You have two, kid. Which one?” 

“ _Rumple.”_

All eyes drifted to Gold, who blinked in confusion. He held out his hand carefully and Emma placed the device in his waiting hand, silently guiding his thumb to the button. He nodded briefly in thanks and spoke, “Yes, Henry?”

“ _Can you go somewhere alone? I need to talk to you._ ” 

Belle was up immediately assisting Rumple. She helped guide him out of the room and into the hallway nearby. She patted his hand, letting him know she was going and when he heard the click of her heels fade, he answered, “I’m here, Henry.”

“ _I am in_ way  _over my head.”_

Rumple laughed. “My boy, you’re experiencing impending Fatherhood. Of course you’re in over your head.” 

“ _So you were scared shitless too?”_

Rumple frowned, “Language, Henry. You’re about to become a very influential person. Can’t have the wee thing picking up your bad habits from the start.”

He could hear Henry chuckle nervously on the other side of the walkie talkie. “ _True. But I am so afraid I’m going to mess up.”_

“The way you messed up on your wedding day?”

He could almost feel his grandson rolling his eyes. “ _I didn’t mess up though. And that was just me. What if I mess up with my kid?”_

_“_ Well, as I recall, I messed up tremendously with Bae and subsequently lost him for several centuries. Emma and Regina both messed up with you, what with their constantly fighting curses  _and_ each other. Your other grandparents gave up their daughter to become the Savior and didn’t see her for twenty-eight years, and your father didn’t know you existed until you were 11.” Rumple paused to let it all sink in. “Surely you’ve realized by now that not even we fairy tale characters have everything together.”

“ _That’s true. You guys did screw up a lot.”_

“And you still love your mothers and your father. Bae loves me. Emma loves her parents. It all worked out, despite everything.”

“ _So basically I can’t screw up_ too _badly?”_

Rumple smiled. “Basically.” 

There was a sound on the other end, a scream and a curse, and then Henry’s voice crackled through, “ _Crap! Gotta run!”_

_“_ Best of luck.” Rumple said, letting go of the button before carefully turning. “How much did you hear, sweetheart?” 

Belle grinned and wrapped her arms around Rumple’s. “You’re so good with him,” she praised, ignoring his question.

“I try.” 

They entered the room again, everyone clamoring to know why Henry needed Rumple. “He just had a few questions, nothing to worry yourselves over,” Rumple said soothingly, “All is well, I promise.”

He held out the walkie talkie, waiting patiently until he felt someone take it from him. He heard static, then Regin'a voice saying worriedly, “Everything okay, Henry?” 

There was several minutes of silence, then the walkie talkie crackled to life again with Henry’s jubilant shout, “ _It’s a girl!”_

 


	15. Family (Future!Gold)

The baby got passed around, each family member taking their time holding the newest addition to the family and cooing over her lovingly. Grace lay in the hospital bed with Henry standing next to her, both parents looking on proudly as their daughter captured hearts of everyone in the room. 

Regina cooed over the girl, a delicate smile easing her features. Neal did his best not to cry, recalling how he’d never gotten to hold his own son like this. He kissed the girl on the forehead, then passed her on to Belle. Belle laughed softly as she held the girl, whispering something about how the child already had the makings of a true book-lover, then turned to Rumple. He was seated in a chair, head tilted slightly so he wouldn’t miss any of the sounds in the room. Belle knelt down carefully and, cradling the girl in one arm, used the other to take Rumple’s hand and gently guide it to the baby.

Tiny fingers curled around his own larger finger, and Rumple smiled wide at the sensation.

“Do you want to hold her?” Belle asked softly, trying to keep her voice low enough so that only he could hear her. 

“That’s all right,” he replied, equally softly. “This is fine." 

Belle frowned, but decided not to press further. She stood, unable to hide her smile when Grace spoke up, "You should hold her, Mr. Gold. Everyone else has." 

Belle glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He seemed tense, but a moment later it melted away and he slowly lifted his hands toward Belle. Beaming, she carefully placed the child in her husband’s arms, watching in awe as he cradled the girl close. He spoke softly to her, letting his finger trace the soft skin of her cheek. 

Everyone watched on in silence as Rumple bonded with his great-granddaughter. He looked so comfortable, so at home with a child in his arms. He held her for several long moments, and though he wished he could see this precious little girl, he resisted the still-occasional urge to dwell on his disability. This day was about the precious little thing in his arms, and he didn’t have to see her to know he loved her. 

 

Lifting his head, Rumple signaled to Belle to take the girl back to her mother, but instead blinked in surprise when he felt a tiny hand grab his nose. He stilled, then smiled and reached up to grasp for the child’s hand. He caught it after a moment and pressed a kiss to it. "You’re definitely part of the family,” he mused softly, then offered the girl to Belle, who passed her along to her mother. 

 

Rumple smiled as chatter filled the room again, everyone discussing the baby and all the plans they had for the child as she grew. Rumple remained silent, listening with an overwhelming sense of contentment as his family talked amongst themselves. Once upon a time he created a curse to reunite with his son. That had been his only goal. But now he listened to his son and daughter-in-law speak to his grandson and his wife. He had a great-granddaughter. He had a wife and a family far larger than he’d ever imagined. 

And he realized, as he felt Belle’s distinct weight settle onto his good leg, that he had never been happier. 


	16. Whiskey and Darkness (Remix of Blind!Gold Universe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s been blind for too long and though he has centuries of memories full of sight to call upon, he’s so used to being blind in this world that he’s not sure what he’ll do when he can see again. [Bit of a remix of my Blind!Gold verse.]

He forces himself to stay calm until he gets home. It’s only when he is safely tucked away in his large, empty house, does he allow himself to react. He drops both canes - one to help his limp, the other to guide his path - and pulls off his gloves. Then he reaches up to touch his face. It’s familiar, of course. He has a nose, ears, lips, teeth. He lets his hands travel over his skin which is no longer scaled and rough, and over his hair, which has lost all its wild curl and now lays limp and straight on his head.

 

He brings his hands to his eyes, and the reality sets in. He’s blind. But it’s so second nature at this point that it’s hardly a shock. Mr. Gold has been blind all his life. He has an abundance of memories that tell a tale of a boy who got sick when he was just a babe, and the illness took his sight. Mr. Gold doesn’t know what it’s like to see. 

But Rumplestiltskin does.

 

Rumplestiltskin had a lifetime of sight. He’s seen things of beauty and wonder and he’s seen things he wishes he could  _un_ see. He’s seen lives pass by and cities rise and crumble. He’s seen war and pain and loss. He’s seen the smile of a boy turn into a set frown that only deepened with each attempted act of love. He’s seen green portals that speak only of separation and hurt. 

He’s seen beautiful blue eyes sparkle. He’s seen those same eyes fixed upon him with despair and determination. He’s seen pretty red lips part as a girl too bright and perfect and pure offers him the first act of love he’s known in centuries and he’s seen that same girl thrown to the ground in a fit of rage.

 

He removes his hands from his eyes, but it does little good. The room is still as dark as it always has been. He limps over to his large arm chair - he knows the path by heart - and plops heavily into the cushioned seat, the weight of two lives colliding too much to bear. He knows where everything in this house is. He knows where everything in Storybrooke is. He knows how many steps it is from his front door to his shop (six hundred forty seven) and how many steps from the shop to Granny’s diner (one hundred thirty six). He knows where all the items in his shop are, and he has his assistant Dove to help him in the moments when he simply can’t find what he’s searching for. He’s developed a system over the years and it works and it’s practically foolproof. 

And it’s all a lie. 

He’s not blind, not really. Or at least he shouldn’t be. Rumplestiltskin was powerful and all seeing, and there had to be a joke in there somewhere, but now he is just as much Mr. Gold as anything else. And Mr. Gold is blind.

 

It’s enough to make him want to cry. He’s had twenty-eight years of blissful ignorance. He’s had twenty-eight years of being the blind pawn broker-slash-landlord who never married or had children. Mr. Gold has no real regrets, and though he isn’t happy, things certainly aren’t bad. And then, the bloody  _Savior_ literally crashed into town and lifted the veil from his eyes (only to have it fall right back down). He can’t say he’s displeased, really. This was his plan. Have the curse bring him here, live a good life for once, and then when the Savior took care of everything and broke the damned Curse, he could take off and find the one thing he’d been looking for these past few centuries. 

But how can one look when one cannot see? 

He slides down in the chair, his legs sticking out awkwardly before him. He needs to find his canes. He can’t quite remember where he dropped them and the last thing he wants is to trip and fall. So he slides down further, until he falls ungracefully to the floor and crawls until his hands brush the cold metal of his white cane. He grips it, then finds the other, then painstakingly maneuvers himself so that he’s once again upright.

He makes his way to the kitchen to pour himself a glass (or several) of whiskey and decides that he’ll spend the night being haunted by old memories while getting uncharacteristically drunk. Alcohol never fazed him as the Dark One, no matter how much he tried to drown his memories in it. But here, he’s just an ordinary man without magic (though he isn’t without power) and alcohol  _works_.

 

He knows it’s not wise for a blind man living alone to get totally plastered, but at this point he doesn’t care. He’s made countless bad decisions over the course of his life so what’s one more? He drinks the entire glass in one gulp and pours another. In his mind he can see two faces, his son and his True Love, and he’s determined to drink until he can’t remember who they are anymore. Guilt burns along with the whiskey as he gulps down more. He shouldn’t be trying to forget them, Bae and Belle. He’s forgotten them for twenty-eight years, but at this point there isn’t anything he can do. He can’t leave to search for Bae because the Curse hasn’t lifted and he can’t see to do it anyway. And Belle is dead.

 

 

It’s an ugly word, dead. And Belle was anything but ugly. Even her  _name_  was beauty. But dead is dead, so he recalls himself saying on more than one occasion, and that’s that. He doesn’t want to forget them, not really, but he’s just had a nasty wake up call from his nearly three decade nap and the harsh reality he finds himself in is just as dreary as the lives he lived before. So he’ll forget them tonight. But tomorrow he’ll start planning. He can’t bring back the dead, but he  _can_ lead the Savior to her destiny, even if it will literally be the blind leading the blind. But he has hope in the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and perhaps she can be his eyes and he can be her heart. He has enough belief for the two of them. He wouldn’t have gotten this far without it.

 

He maneuvers his way upstairs, glass and bottle cradled awkwardly in his hand, the other hand holding his walking cane, and his white can tucked under his arm. He doesn’t need it as much here, since there is nothing in the way of his steps. He enters his bedroom and puts the bottle and glass on the nightstand and lets his canes rest at the foot of his bed. He kicks his shoes off and removes his tie, jacket, and vest. It’s as comfortable as he feels like getting at this point. He eases back on to the bed and feels around for his glass. He picks it up and downs it, eventually deciding the glass is only slowing down the process of him getting drunk. He leaves it empty and picks up the bottle instead.

 

It’s strange, being a man again. His leg hurts and his hands ache from gripping canes and he feels the prickle of his five o'clock shadow. They are all things he’s used to, in some way. These aches and pains have been a part of his life for some time, but only now is he aware of them. Only now does he recall the ancient pleasure of neither feeling hot nor cold. He remembers never needing sleep or food, but now they are as necessary anything else. It’s amazing how he has these simple habits of eating and sleeping and shaving and needing four thick blankets to keep away the chill. They are so ingrained in him yet they are suddenly so foreign and he thinks he has far too much to think about and not enough whiskey to do it.

 

So he closes his eyes. Then opens them. There is no change; not that he expected there to be. He’s been blind for too long and though he has centuries of memories full of sight to call upon, he’s so used to being blind in this world that he’s not sure what he’ll do when he  _can_ see again.

 

He’ll look for his son, of course. That’s a given. But will he look at sky? That beautiful blue that matches a pair of lovely eyes he hasn’t seen in years and will never see again, blind or no? He doubts it. He’s here on a mission and he won’t have time to look at pretty things when his sight returns. And he’s confident he’ll have it back. The Savior didn’t get her name for nothing, and for the first time in his life, Rumplestiltskin wants his curse to break.

 

He takes another swig from the bottle, savoring the taste on his tongue. It’s going to be a long night, he thinks, drowning in a sea of whiskey and darkness, but tomorrow is a new day. He’ll rise (with the unholiest of hangovers), dress, shave, and go about his routine as normally as he can. He’s done these things countless times, so it should be simple to go about them, even with a heightened sense of awareness that this isn’t quite real. He wonders what he looks like now. He imagines just like he did before his Curse, but that man is so long gone that it’s hard to envision him. He can imagine Bae with no problem, but he can’t seem to imagine himself.

 

But he doesn’t let that bother him. He’s not particularly worried about seeing himself again. That’s not his goal. His goal is to find his son, and that’s what he’s going to do. Besides, even when he  _can_ look in a mirror again, he’s not sure he’ll like what he sees.


	17. Protection (Remix)

It’s bad enough he’s blind. It’s worse that no magic he tries can restore his sight. It’s worse still that he has enemies in Storybrooke now, and they are searching for a weakness. And other than his lack of sight, he only has one: Belle.  
  
Rumple can’t protect her, not In the way he desires. He wants to keep her by his side, ready to attack like a guard dog trained to defend its master to the death. But he can’t, not really. So he does the next best thing: he sets up the most complex wards he can around the library and instructs Belle not to leave under any circumstances.  
  
Then he leaves, knowing it will be a long time before he will be able to come near her again. He can’t, not as long as Cora and Hook are slinking about. Better they go after him and remain oblivious to his true weakness. Regina was right, he thinks bitterly. He has something to lose this time around. Were Belle truly dead, like Regina told him once, long ago, it wouldn’t matter. He would be able to focus more on taking them out without constant worry and distraction. But Belle is alive and Rumple has already lost her once; he’s not going to lose her again.

So he locks her in the library with enough food and provisions to last months, and makes her swear to answer the door for no one, not even him. She’s reluctant in all of it, protesting the entire time, but eventually Rumple sits her down and explains everything. Hook is after revenge for Rumple killing their mutual (former) love, Milah. Cora is less genuine in her revenge. Rumple can understand now why Hook wants to kill him, to some degree. But he doesn’t quite know what Cora wants. She got the better end of the deal made between them long ago and Rumple can’t imagine what she wants with him now, and that makes her even more dangerous. Especially if she knows about Belle. So he explains why he needs her to hide, to  _not_ do the brave thing and fight at his side, as she so desperately wants to do. 

Eventually, after he’s confessed to everything and answered all her questions, Belle relents and agrees to do as he wishes. She’s not happy about it at all, he can tell, but they both know this is for the best. Rumple doesn’t want Belle to come to harm, and Belle has no desire to be captured and locked up again, though that is essentially what she’s doing by remaining shut in the library. 

It’s better than the alternative: becoming leverage against her True Love. So she kisses him hard, then locks herself behind doors and magic and wonders if she’ll see Rumplestiltskin again.

  
-000-  
  
Rumple is in his shop, working on a spell that might assist him with his blindness. Nothing has worked thus far, but he has hope that this particular spell may give him just enough sight to be able to properly go after his enemies. The sooner they’re gone the sooner he can free Belle. It’s a motivation stronger than even restoring his sight, having Belle near again. 

He’s on the verge of finishing the spell when his cell phone rings. His first instinct is to not answer it, but then he belatedly recognizes the tune as the one that only plays when Belle calls. Frowning, Rumple reaches for the phone, managing to grab it on the fourth ring. Fear grips him as he answers; they’d agreed not to talk to each other as a precaution. She was only to contact him if there was an emergency. Before she even speaks, he’s reaching for his canes.

“Rumple-" 

Her voice is muffled, and the reception is terrible. Despite that, however, he can tell something is very wrong. 

"Belle."   
  
"Hook - library - elevator.”  
  
It’s the only three words he can make out, but it’s enough to spur him into action. He tells her he’s coming, though he isn’t sure if she heard him. He rushes out of the shop, silently and quickly counting the ninety-four steps it takes to get to the library. He thinks he’ll never get there and by the time he does, Hook is prying open the elevator doors. Rumple can’t see, but his hearing is in top form, and he can hear the man grunting and metal clanging as he tries to get through. The logical conclusion is that Belle has locked herself away in there, to buy her a few extra minutes. It explains why he could barely hear her when she called. 

Hook is still grunting and cursing as he attacks the elevator, and makes no move to look over his shoulder. He has no idea he’s not alone. Rumple smirks. Good. 

Rumple brandishes his walking cane, using the other to guide his way. He limps slowly, careful not to alert the pirate to his presence. A moment later he hears the door whoosh open and Belle cries out in fear. Rumple decides it’s now or never, and so he drops the white stick, brandishes his other cane in both hands, and swings.   
  
The resounding  _crack_  reverberates back through him, knocking him unsteady for a moment. Then he hears a thud. A moment later, he is knocked backward by the force of Belle embracing him.  
  
“You came,” she cries, “Oh thank you, thank you!”  
  
He drops the cane and pulls Belle close to him, burying his face in her hair.  It’s the first time he’s held her in over a month and he can’t believe he thought this was a good idea. This was the worst idea possible, he decides, and he won’t leave her here after this. She’ll be safer by his side, where she should have been all along. He’s a fool, he realizes bitterly, for thinking this plan would work.   
  
“Of course I did,” he says comfortingly, pulling himself out of his own mind to comfort his True Love. “Of course I came. I love you." 

It feels so good to say, and he feels Belle sag in relief against him. "I love you too,” she whispers, one hand clinging to his back, the other buried in his hair. "Please don’t leave me again,“ she whispers suddenly, "Please let me come with you. I’ll stay hidden, I promise. Just let me hide somewhere else." 

"I’m never leaving you again,” he swears, “You’re coming with me,”  
  
“Oh thank God,” she sighs and let’s go of him long enough to pick up his canes and hand them to him. They turn to leave but Belle grips his arm. “What about him?" 

He can’t see her, but he knows she’s gesturing to the unconscious pirate on the floor. Rumple considers his options for the moment, then throws out a hand, turning the pirate’s hook into a bouquet of flowers, leaving him utterly harmless. "Leave him,” Rumple decides after a moment. “I’ll give Miss Swan a call. She can deal with him." 

They leave the library, and ninety-four steps later they are safely tucked away in the pawn shop once more. Rumple alerts Emma of Hook’s location, then locks and wards the door. He limps back to the back room, where Belle sits on the table, waiting patiently for him. 

She pulls him to her when he’s close enough to reach, and hugs him tightly. "I missed you,” she sighs into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and presses his lips to her cheek. 

“Why did we think this was a good idea?” He asks. Belle chuckles. 

“I didn’t,” she clarifies, “You did." 

"Then I’m an idiot." 

Belle slaps him lightly on the shoulder. "Don’t say that,” she fusses, “You were protecting me.”

“Didn’t do a great job,” he sighs and Belle pulls away from him. He worries that he’s angered her, but he feels her take his face in her hands. She speaks then, and he knows if he could see her, her eyes would be full of love for him. 

“I’m not with Cora. I’m not with Hook. I’m with  _you_ in the shop, completely out of harm’s way.” She presses a kiss to his nose. “I’d say you didn’t a fantastic job." 

He nods dumbly, and Belle continues, "Though the next time you decide to lock me away from the world in order to protect me, I’m taking you with me.” He feels her lean closer, and though they are the only two in the shop, she still whispers, “A girl can get rather… lonely… after being by herself for over a month." 

He knows his way around the shop as well as anyone with sight. So it’s hardly any effort at all to drag her to the makeshift bed he keeps in the corner and relieve her of her loneliness. 


	18. Scotland (Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Gold goes home, even though he’s never been there before

 

He has memories of a childhood here. They’re not real, never were, but something in him had longed to return. He’s wanted to return to a place he’d never been, and while it made no sense, it feels so natural and right to be here. 

For Mr. Gold, this is home. 

Neal, Emma, and Henry follow close behind him as Belle holds onto his arm, leading him around Stirling Castle, describing all the sights to him as best she can. He knows all about the castle, or some part of him does. History lessons as a boy offer him names and dates that match up with what Belle tells him, and it’s a strange sensation to be so familiar yet so ignorant of these things. 

He can hear Henry behind him, pointing to various things and exclaiming how “cool” they are. His parents indulge his enthusiasm, though they certainly don’t share it. Rumple can’t help but smile. He has such hopes that Emma and his son will reunite, and not just for Henry’s sake. He admires Emma, respects her. And he thinks she’s good for Bae. And, though he’s probably a bit biased, he thinks Bae is good for her. 

They won’t admit it, not willingly, but it’s obvious to everyone else that they still care for each other. Belle knows it, Henry knows it. Rumple is blind, but even he can see the spark between them. It’s half the reason he paid for them to come along. He recalls, from memories that don’t really exist, that Scotland is an extremely romantic place, in its way, and he hopes that the old ruins and lovely architecture that he can’t see but knows so well will be the perfect setting for some secret, late night confession of love. Surely his son can recognize the opportunity when it presents itself. He knows he has special plans for Belle that includes a trip to Loch Ness and a ring.

He remembers trips to Loch Ness as a boy, and he recalls loving it dearly. He’s never seen the beautiful lake, but he knows how wonderful it feels to be there. This whole place is like a fairy tale, he thinks with amusement. It reminds him of the old world in some ways, and perhaps that’s where part of the longing to visit came from. It’s so much like home. He just hopes Nessy is indeed a fable. He can think of nothing worse than a proposal ruined because some great monster decides to make itself known. 

It would be just his luck, though. 

Belle pulls him along, oblivious to his thoughts, and he follows obediently. Behind him, his acute hearing picks up on Emma and his son talking in hushed tones. He hears something about being ‘bored’ and though he can’t understand how anyone could be  _bored_ at such an incredible place, he also recognizes it as an opportunity. He stops walking, gently pulling on Belle to halt her steps. He turns to address his family. “What are your plans for the evening?” He asks innocently. He can sense Emma and Neal exchanging glances and finally, his son speaks up. “Well, Em and I did some research,” he starts, “And found out about this cool pub not far from the hotel. We were thinking about getting dinner there tonight, only we aren’t sure if-” 

“We’ll watch over Henry,” Rumple assures them quickly. “In fact, I know this isn’t exactly your favorite thing, son. If you two want to go on and do something else, Belle and I can entertain him.” He can’t see his grandson, but he looks in the direction he thinks the boy is. “Is that all right?” 

Henry agrees eagerly, claiming he wants Belle to teach him more about the castle, since she’d read all about it before the trip. Emma and Neal say farewell then, and when they’re gone, Henry nudges his grandfather with his shoulder. “Smooth, Grandpa.” 

Rumple feigns innocence once more. “Whatever do you mean?” 

“Setting them up like that. I’ve been trying forever to get them alone. Maybe if I’m not around they can finally talk and stop being so stubborn and actually admit they still love each other.”

“So you see it to?” Rumple asks. 

Henry sighs dramatically, “Are you kidding? You’d have to be blind not to- Oh, Grandpa I’m so sorry!” He can tell Henry is horrified, but he can’t help but laugh. Everyone is so careful about mentioning his blindness. He reaches out for Henry, and puts his arm around the boy’s shoulder. 

“In this instance,” he says with another laugh, “Even the blind can see it.” 

“I’m sorry, Grandpa,” Henry says again, but Rumple shrugs it off. He’s blind. It’s a simple fact, one he’s still adjusting to, but there are worse things to be. 

“No worries, Henry,” Rumple says cheerfully, “I agree though. They are far too stubborn for their own good.” 

“Something Bae clearly inherited from his father,” Belle teases as she begins to lead them over to a row of tapestries. 

“We’ll take our time here,” she decides, squeezing Rumple’s arm affectionately, “And give them all the time they need.” 

“I hope they hurry,” Henry says as he inspects a tapestry, “If they don’t, I’m going to lock them in a closet until refuse to let them out until they do.” 

They all laugh, and continue on their tour. Rumple smiles as he listens to Belle and Henry talk about one of the tapestries in the room. He may not be able to enjoy it the way his beloved and grandson do, but he doesn’t mind. He’s enjoying being with his family. He’s enjoying making real memories in this place that was and wasn’t his home. His son and grandson are here. His True Love is by his side, and will soon be his fiance. He can’t see, but even that isn’t a determent to his enjoyment. He has everything he could ever want right here, in Scotland.

Except a daughter-in-law. And if his dimwitted son doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity given to him, Rumple decides he may just help Henry lock his parents in that closet. Because the boy is right. They’d have to be blind not to see what’s right in front of them. And Rumplestiltskin would know. He’s been blind all his life. 


End file.
